To Change for Love
by Aspen96
Summary: "The two exchanged a wary glance, at the same time reaching out for one another's hand. Calloused skin met calloused skin as the two held onto one another-the only thing that they could take as reality in the Games." CatoXClove!


Hey! So this is my first CatoXClove attempt…to be honest, I wasn't really sure where to go with this, but I kind of just made some stuff up along the way.

If it is alright, please let me know. If it sucks, please also let me know. (Kindly ;] )

Also, let me know your take on Cato and Clove's possible relationship! I'm interested to hear what other Hunger Games fans think of it.

So yeah, read and review. :)

The fire crackled around two worn out bodies, resting themselves for the frigid night upon a fall tree trunk. The sparks flickered off the body of flame, sending a popping noise into the usual silence that draped over the area at such a time. The two sat in wait, staring up at the moonless cloak of blackness that covered the sky. At last, the familiar seal of the Capitol showed itself in the sky along with the flashing photos of those who had not survived another day in the Games. As the photos finished, the seal was presented yet again-a reminder of who was forever in charge of these times. A short song echoed throughout the area which after, returned to silence. The two exchanged a wary glance, at the same time reaching out for one another's hand. Calloused skin met calloused skin as the two held onto one another-the only thing that they could take as reality in the Games.

"Clove?" a quiet, yet hard voice spoke up from that of the boy. He flicked his eyes up to meet hers, turning to get a better view. The girl, Clove, raised her eyebrows in show of her attention.

"I don't ever want to see your face up there." He spoke these words to her with sincerity, not having the slightest idea of what he would do without her with him in these nightmares called the Games. Slowly, she shook her head, loose locks of hair falling in front of her face to cast shadows upon it. The fire gave off an eerie glow to them, flickering in an ever changing pattern. The boy gave her hand a small squeeze, inviting a response.

"And I never want to see your face up their either, Cato." She murmured after a few moments as she dropped her gaze to leave him transfixed on her face. Cato let out a soft sigh, unable to wrap his mind around what was happening. Never in the history of the Games had two tributes won and it was something that was rarely thought of. Even so, Cato couldn't help but posses the urge to break this pattern and somehow, someway be able to save Clove's soul as well as his own. He knew his family would disapprove of such thoughts. For after all, they were just a sign of weakness in his hardened self. His whole life had been devoted for training of these Games; to ensure his victory and fame as his year came up. Yet this all changed when the second tribute was this girl, Clove. The girl that he could not stop from falling in love with every time he laid eyes on her. He was different around her, comfortable almost…a feeling that was rarely felt around his family, whom he would ever so much become stoic around. She made him feel different, as if they were not in a death trap together. She had even changed the boy that could not be moved. She turned his mind from the thoughts and sure intentions of victory, but brought a new feeling to him: That of protection; that of selflessness. Now, her safety was more important than his own. Now, he felt loved and paid it back with fullest intentions.

"We have to win." He murmured, the words almost a command to his self. It was silent for a moment, save the crackling of the fire, as the boy held his gaze on Clove, who was unwilling to return it.

"Cato…you know the rules." her voice was hallow with the sense that the words were not ones the she wished to be spoken.

"I don't care about the rules!" Cato's agitated yell came before he would stop it. The tone surprised Clove, as she slipped her hand out of his, finally meeting his gaze with a hardened stare. Cato shook his head, dropping his head to his hands and sliding his fingers slowly through his matted down hair. Finally, he looked up to see Clove still gazing at him, a new found look in her shaded brown eyes. Before he could say anything, her hands found his neck with a surprising amount of force. He lurched forward slightly through instinct but her next move was found to be even more surprising. He felt her lips upon his with a gentleness least expected from the fiery girl. His surprise was doused as he found her neck and placed his warm hands upon it, his lips returning the kiss with unmatched gentleness. At the moment, one another was all that mattered. The reality of the Games slipped further and further away with every passing second of their lives while they held on to each other for what was real. Finally, Clove drew back slightly, as Cato unwillingly did the same. As their lips detached from one another the two sat there, inches away with gazes unwavering. Millions of untraceable emotions exchanged themselves between the two, with words unable to be pinned to such feelings.

Cato opened his mouth to respond, her name forming on his lips when she shook her head while her gaze dropped. He slowly closed his mouth as he felt her slip her arms tightly around his neck and pull her body unto his lap. Cato immediately wrapped his arms strongly around her form, burying his head into her should as she did the same. He took a shaky breath, trying to keep himself composed at a time when he felt so vulnerable. This, of course, was a feeling that the trained tribute could not be further from being used to. The two stayed there for the rest of the dwindling night. The two of them being the only hold they had left on reality.

. . .

"Cato! I will be fine!" she hissed, struggling to release her form from his strong grasp. The girl, Katniss Everdeen, was in plain sight ahead as she ran to get that pity number twelve bag. Now could not be more of an ideal time with the "Girl on Fire" out in the open, no trees to protect her pitiful self. Hatred burned inside Clove's chest as her eyes burned into the tribute's skin.

She would do more than kill her. She would torture her. She would put the girl back where she belonged: at the bottom. No longer would Katniss hold her spot with the audience. Clove would win back her victory that the Career deserved. Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as she felt her body pulled back by the force of Cato's arms.

"Let me go!" she whispered, venom practically spitting from her lips. Her eyes darted to his with agitation and accusation; meeting his that were only filled with an unfamiliar concern.

"She needs to die!" she spat at him

"She will! But not know. I can't let you risk it." he snapped back, only protectiveness blanketing over his words. He would not-no, could not-willingly let Clove put herself in such blatant danger. He gazed at her pleadingly. For a moment her eyes softened, and he felt her muscles relax ever so slightly. A soft breath escaped his lips as he assured himself that he had swayed her.

Yet in that moment with lightning speed ripped her arms from his grasp managed to slip out; running ahead with forward with trained her quick steps.

"Clove!" he yelled, leaping forward with intents to grab her and pull her back to his safety: the kind that he could ensure. At the same time his food entangled itself in the dense undergrowth of the forest floor, leaving the tribute to collapse upon the bushes that once offered protection for the two of them. Cato swore under his breath, ripping and cursing at the tangles of foliage in attempts to free himself. Tough brambles and thorns tore at his skin when finally he had untangled the mess. It was at this moment that he saw him. The form of a the large and bulky District 11 tribute barreling forward towards two figures that he could not make out. Cato squinted his eyes, only to recognize one of those figures at Clove. Even so, it was too late. The man's hand was upon her and it was all Cato could do not to rip his gaze away. A scream was caught in his throat as he lunged forward to rush to her rescue.

It was too late.

She was too far.

A sickening echo of a strong force upon the glimmering Cornicopia registered in his senses and the form of the girl he loved slumped down upon the bloodstained grass lifeless. His scream was drowned out by the blast of the cannon, signaling yet another soul taken.

. . .

Mockingjays fluttered from the treetops, screeching as they lifted themselves into the darkened sky. The cause of the commotion was knelt on the forest floor, head in his scarred hands with whispered curses tumbling from his mouth.

She was dead. The only girl that he found in his hardened heart to love was gone.

He would find this murder. And when he did, there would be no room for mercy.


End file.
